


our endless numbered days

by fleurting



Series: Comment Fics [1]
Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-04-28 21:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5106536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurting/pseuds/fleurting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your wallet's too empty and your chest is too hollow and you've had this particular thorn in your side since you were sixteen and naive, and now you've gotten kind of used to the pain, or even come to enjoy it, and you're terrified of what it's going to feel like once you're forced pull it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	our endless numbered days

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the prompt "sharing a bed" at fluffyfrolicker's [instant gratification comment ficathon](http://fluffyfrolicker.livejournal.com/60851.html).

“It's logical,” she says, “It's the most logical option.” Because you're in the middle of nowhere, and you're young, and you're broke, and the days until you are no longer an essential, unquestionable part of each others every day lives are counting down faster than your own heartbeat.

You don't object because your wallet's too empty and your chest is too hollow and you've had this particular thorn in your side since you were sixteen and naive, and now you've gotten kind of used to the pain, or even come to enjoy it, and you're terrified of what it's going to feel like once you're forced to pull it out.

Her feet are cold and when she presses her toes against your calf to warm them you want to object, exasperatedly shout her name but you don't. You don't because you feel like you're choking and like you're drowning and like every horrible thing that could possibly happen to you is happening to you all at once. Because she's been a constant in your life, maybe always teetering on the edge, friend or foe or foil, but still there. And now she's not going to be and that unsettles you. You feel like the rug has been ripped out from under your feet, or the world is slightly off its axis, and you kind of want to pull her to you and you kind of want to never let her go. 

You also kind of want to kiss her, out of something like desperation, or maybe nostalgia, but you don't do that either. You think about it, about grabbing her mid-sentence, in the middle of some rant you've long since stopped listening to, and kissing the lips you know will be chapped and tasting slightly of vanilla, and pressing your hands against the small of her back and pulling back to see the thoughtful expression on her face, before she states that this was not a part of her five-year plan or that she had expected their experimentation phase earlier. And you'd roll your eyes, and tell her it's not a phase, or if she is, she's one you still haven't grown out of and are afraid you never will.

She mumbles something in her sleep and your heart clenches, fondness seeping from you and into the air, and you feel like the Grinch when his heart grew three sizes that day, only you don't think this story has a happy ending, and what they don't tell you is putting that much strain on such a vital muscle hurts. It hurts and it burns and you want to stay wrapped up in this little cocoon forever while the rest of the world continues moving on without you outside the window. But you know that's impossible and so you slip your arm around her waist and she wriggles back against you, conceding easily in this unguarded state, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and it feels like the world is back on its axis, and you're standing upright again and you can finally breathe because she's still there with you, even if it's just for now.


End file.
